Written 18th August, 2026 This Week's Poetry Challenge: No Letter E
Outback sky a dark canvas of cold stars. Wind blows across dry dirt, tossing grains of sand against rocky crusts. No clouds in sight. A dingo calls out to a bright moon. Sitting upon a high cliff, looking for a small, quick hop of a kangaroo. Harsh shrubs stand still. Night brings a sharp chill, calming a sun-burnt land. At dawn, currawong will sing again. But now, it is tranquil. Shadows wash all colour away. Only a faint glow stays, a ghost of hours past.
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